


Stars and Fireworks: A Mark On Heaven, If Just For Tonight

by Fallen_angel_of_time23



Series: When Two Hearts Beat As One [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1: Crowley telling Zira he was Raphael, 2: Zira and Crowley watching fireworks and being cute, 4th of July, Cute, Fireworks, I really just wanted three things, M/M, all three are in one fic, and 3: them giving each other gifts but it turns out to be the same gift., have fun, inspired by the holidays, some moments of angst and sadness but HAPPY ENDING and mostly CUTE AND SWEET, the boys have a TalkTM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 08:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19664041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_angel_of_time23/pseuds/Fallen_angel_of_time23
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate a year after Armageddon by watching some fireworks and drinking wine. They reminisce back on the time fireworks were invented, why they were invented, and how they contributed to this. Very cute. Mostly fluff. Minor emotional angst during a flashback. Happy endings all the way around.





	1. This Deserves a Proper Celebration, Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haylellujah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haylellujah/gifts).



> I wrote this for my AMAZING friend who will let me scream about Good Omens at all hours of the day and night. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Colors exploded across the sky, followed by a deep boom. A couple car alarms joined in, followed by barking dogs, and the enthusiastic cheering of a couple hundred people. 

Red,  _ boom _ . Blue,  _ boom _ . White,  _ boom _ . 

More colors, more booms. And if you listened closely, you just might catch the very soft, mesmerized sigh escaping past an angel’s lips, followed by the simultaneous beating of two very distinct hearts. 

A planet,  _ boom _ . A box,  _ boom _ . A heart,  _ boom _ .

Said angel, who was currently sitting on a bench towards the back of a quaint little park with no crowd - a rare occasion for today - and watching the fireworks light up the sky, was the proud owner of the first heart. The being on the bench next to him owned the second heart. 

__________

Crowley was sitting on - well, more like draped across - the bench. One leg stretched out in front of him, the other hooked over his Angel’s leg; one arm resting on his stomach, the other lying across the back of the bench; one hand subconsciously positioned over his heart, the other alternating between playing with his Angel’s hair and just resting on the nape of his neck. He was slouched low enough he was able to use the back of the bench as a headrest, and his eyes were steadfastly fixed on his Angel’s face. 

It was precisely a year to the day since Armageddon had been thwarted, and it also happened to be Independence Day in America. Of course the two of them had been to the US a number of times before, but they had quite liked London. Settling down there just seemed like a good idea, and that is exactly where they still call home. But today was a special day, and his Angel had wanted to celebrate; even brought out his best wine. Crowley decided right then and there that if they were going to celebrate they should do it properly, and tempted his Angel out of the bookshop with the promise of fireworks and food, though not in that order. 

And so here they were, just after dinner. On a little bench, sequestered away in a park that miraculously happened to be both empty and have a perfect view, watching the fireworks show, and celebrating a slightly different victory than the country they were in. The bottle of wine was forgotten on the ground (Of course they brought the wine! You cannot properly celebrate without  _ wine _ ) next to Crowley’s glasses, whose owner was absolutely  _ captivated _ by the show before him. 

Oh yeah, he loved fireworks and everything, but they were nothing compared to watching how his Angel’s eyes lit up with unabashed love and amazement every time a firework went off. The reflection of colors would highlight the blue in his eyes, and Crowley could see the stars blending with sparks as they gently fell back to earth. His Angel had the Heavens in his eyes, and Crowley didn’t dare look away. 

He was focused so intently on his Angel’s eyes it took Crowley a moment to realize his mouth had moved because he had spoken. 

“I’m sorry, Angel, what did you say?”

“Do you remember, Dear,” his Angel repeated sweetly, eyes never leaving the sky as Crowley’s fingers wound their way back into his hair, “when fireworks were invented?” 

“Course I do. We were there, Angel. Why?”

“Oh no particular reason, I was simply remembering and wondered if you recalled.”

“Mmm,” Crowley hummed, somehow indicating his agreement and disbelief at once. “It was China, just about 2,000 years ago - give or take a little - if I remember correctly. That Chef was a dreadful cook.” This earned a soft, delighted chuckle from his Angel, making Crowley grin wide. 

“That cook had nothing to do with fireworks, though he was indeed dreadful. I quite liked watching his  _ concoction  _ explode in his face. I daresay I’m not proud of it, but it was thoroughly pleasing to make happen at the time.”

“Wait that was  _ you _ ,” Crowley asked sitting up a bit, his hand stilling for a brief moment in his Angel’s hair in disbelief. “I always thought he was just that bad.” 

“Oh, he certainly was, my Dear. That’s why he was the perfect one to have “discover” the formula for fireworks. He certainly would have stumbled upon it eventually. We just helped him along. A little early. That’s all.”

“Ahh, I see.” Crowley settled back on the bench again, quite impressed, pleased, and very much so in love with his Angel. They fell back into a few moments of comfortable silence before Crowley spoke again, barely above a whisper. 

“You know, Angel, I think that was when I knew I loved you.” And for the first time that night since the show started his Angel turned his head to look at him. Seeing the astonished and slightly confused look on his face, Crowley quickly continued on. “No, no. Not watching the cook. That was funny but no, not then. It was the when you showed me what you had been working on. That moment. That’s when I knew. I mean I’ve always  _ known _ . Deep down, ya know? Like that wasn’t when I fell in love with you; that was in Eden, though you had my attention since Heaven. But that was when I really realized that I loved you and would do just about anything to keep you safe and at my side. And I know you know all of this already--”

“No, Crowley, I didn’t.” His Angel gently cut him off, adoration and love coating his words, though he spoke a bit quick. “Some of it, yes. You told me that night, but not--” He paused with a sigh, forcing himself to slow down while looking at Crowley with a soft glow in his eyes and a smile on his lips. “You never told me that’s when you knew. Oh,  _ Crowley _ .”

And that’s all it took. That all it ever takes. Whenever his Angel says his name  _ that way _ . Like he’s pouring all of the love, understanding, and wistfulness of the universe into a single word. Like he can see right through to Crowley soul. Like he did  _ that night _ . 

All it took was his Angel saying his name and Crowley was suddenly thrown back into the memory of  _ fireworks _ . 


	2. Creation, In All Its Glory

“Crowley?” 

They were standing in the middle of an abandoned field somewhere in China; it was a summer night, though the cool breeze spoke of an early autumn. This was the first time the angel and the demon had consciously decided to spend time together, without having to find each other in the same place to begin with. Though they had found each other at the crucifiction of Jesus, it was in Rome over a dinner of oysters that they had agreed they needed a break from Heaven and Hell, respectively; one that included new surroundings. 

China, for whatever reason, is where they found themselves. Both would claim it was the other’s decision, though neither actually suggested it. Truth is, it was all part of The Plan. The two of them had separate agendas that involved the other, and whether they knew it or not, their plans would not have come to fruition if they had been anywhere else on Earth. And so, for a little over a month now - and for the first time - here they were: alone together, just casually enjoying the other’s company almost like  _ friends _ . 

Of course they had been toeing the line of friendship since the beginning of time, but this was different. This  _ felt  _ different. And after a month of getting to know each other better, neither one could say, without lying, that they weren’t at least a little fond of the other. And so that’s why when Crowley asked Aziraphale if he would join him at this particular spot tonight, the angel - after making some minor, half-hearted attempts at declining, per their usual verbal dance - agreed. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale gently spoke Crowley’s name again in an earnest attempt to catch his attention, which was currently fixed on the starry night sky. This time though, he blinked and finally looked at Aziraphale, eyebrow raised in question. 

“Yes?”

“What was it you wanted to show me? You did ask me to come here for a reason.” 

“Right! Right. Yes, I erm. Well...” Crowley paused, gaze returning to the sky. A moment passed, and then another before Crowley spoke again. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice carried a trace of wistful melancholy that made Aziraphale turn his attention to the stars, as if they could tell him what was going through Crowley’s mind. 

When they didn’t reveal their secrets to him, Aziraphale let his eyes lazily trace the constellations he could see, giving his companion the time he needed. Aziraphale knew by now that Crowley would tell him what was on his mind, he just had to wait until the demon was ready, and he didn’t mind. It gave him an opportunity to stare unabashedly at the stars for the first time in a while. He really did love them, the stars and galaxies had always been one of his favorite bits about creation. He used to stare at them from the Garden wall and wonder what the angel was like who had put them there. 

“W-what?” Crowley stared at Aziraphale in shock, his mind replaying the words that just slipped from the angel’s mouth. Truth was, he had actually asked the angel to come out here tonight because Crowley wanted to tell him about who he was before he fell. It was a big deal to Crowley, a secret he had kept close to his chest since his fall. He never talked about his past with anyone - demon, human, or otherwise. Hell, he could barely stand to remember, it was that painful. He missed Heaven. Oh he would never go back - even if that was possible - but he still missed the old days because, well, he was the angel who had made the stars. 

He assumed Aziraphale wouldn’t have remembered him, they had only met once in Heaven before the fall, and the angel had never shown any sign of recognition when they met again in Eden.  _ Though to be fair _ , thought Crowley,  _ I do look a bit different _ . Yet here he was, baring witness as  _ Aziraphale confessed  _ to thinking about him -  _ him _ \- when they were supposed to be here so  _ Crowley _ could confess about his past. 

“Oh, did I say that aloud?” Aziraphale smiled at Crowley, a touch embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to interrupt Crowley’s thoughts, but what he said was true and he didn’t mind sharing. “It is true though. The stars were always a constant I could count on during my time in Eden. It got rather lonesome on occasion, and they hold a beauty I don’t believe Heaven could ever repeat.” 

“Don’t say that Angel,” Crowley said, voice suddenly bitter as he scowled up at the stars.  _ When he finds out I made them, he won’t think that anymore _ , Crowley thought, a cold weight settling in his chest,  _ He shouldn’t be complimenting the work of a demon like this anyway; Heaven has no mercy _ . “Angels aren’t allowed to have their own thoughts and opinions on things. Talking like that can make an angel fall.” Aziraphale opened his mouth to argue that appreciating Heaven’s beauty could not possibly lead to falling, but was stopped short when Crowley’s face suddenly lost its tension. His eyes gained a deep aching sadness, and he whispered softly, “I should know.” 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered. He raised his hand as if to place it on Crowley’s arm and the demon subtly flinched away. Aziraphale let his arm drop, but his brows drew together with concern. The angel turned his eyes to the sky, giving Crowley some semblance of privacy, and made sure to keep his voice soft and calming when he spoke again. “You don’t have to say anything more if you’d rather not. But I am here to listen if you would like to talk about it.” 

Crowley sighed and ran a shaky hand through his hair, fingers catching in his tangled curls for a moment as his eyes flicked over to Aziraphale. “Actually, Angel, this is kind of why I brought you out here.” 

Aziraphale smiled, but otherwise didn’t move. “Well then, whenever you’re ready I’m here. I’m listening. There is absolutely no rush, Crowley; please take however much time you need, my Dear.” 

Crowley nodded his understanding, mind caught on the pet name Aziraphale used.  _ That’s a first _ . He let it wash over him as he relaxed into waves of calm he could feel coming from the angel. This is exactly why he had decided to confide in Aziraphale, he knew the angel would understand without ever passing judgement. He would wait until Crowley was ready to speak, and would help him if it started to get too much. Crowley knew that of all the angels in Heaven, Aziraphale was the only one who could and would  _ accept him _ . And Crowley needed to tell someone, he needed to get this off his chest - he just didn’t know how to start. It was like standing on a cliff, needing to get to the bottom, and having no way down except to jump. He would either fly or fall.  _ I’ve already fallen once, what’s one more time? _ Crowley jumped.

“Have you ever wondered who I was before I fell?” 

“Oh I - It honestly never crossed my mind. I guess I never thought it was important.”

“ _ Why _ ?” The hurt disbelief in Crowley’s voice caused Aziraphale’s gaze to snap back to the demon, understanding dawning in the angel’s eyes. 

“Crowley I’m sorry. I should have considered that it was important to you. I just saw you as  _ you _ . You’re Crowley to me - who you were before doesn’t matter because that’s not who you are now, and I can’t meet that you. But I did meet this you, and I know this you: the good and the bad, despite how much you argue the contrary.” Aziraphale’s eyes searching the other’s face for a sign he should stop. Seeing none, he hesitantly continued on. “I mean, now that you’ve brought this up, I must confess I am curious. And I never meant to dismiss your past like that. Oh, I hope I’m making sense. You see, I believe that our past makes us who we are, but it doesn’t  _ define _ us. I never needed to know who you were because I was learning about who you are now, and I suppose I thought you would bring up your past when you were ready to tell me about it. Because it is a part of you - but not your defining aspect. Oh, Crowely -  _ please say something _ .” 

“ _ Angel… _ ” He could feel the tears in his eyes fighting to fall as he fought to stay upright; but for the first time in his life, he realized someone was there to catch him if he fell. And sure enough, his knees buckled but before they even had a chance to hit the ground he felt Aziraphale’s arms around him, supporting his weight as he was lowered gently to the ground. When they were both on their knees, Aziraphale gently released his wings and wrapped them around the demon in his arms, letting his warmth hum through them both. Crowley let his head drop onto Aziraphale’s shoulder, and he stayed there, breathing the angel in as he calmed down.

“Do you know which one is my favorite? Constellation, that is.” Aziraphale gently held Crowley, one arm tight around his lower back, the other slowly tracing soothing circles on his upper back. His wings blocked the world from the demon’s view, but Aziraphale could still see the sky if he looked up, and that’s what he did. He knew some humans liked it when people rambled on in a soothing voice when they were upset, and he thought it wouldn’t hurt to try it with Crowley. If the demon didn’t like it, he simply had to say so and Aziraphale told himself he would stop. So he didn’t mind that Crowley didn’t acknowledge him, and continued on after a brief pause, taking Crowley’s lack of complaint as a good sign. 

“It’s the Eridanus constellation. I picked it out during my time in Eden, though it didn’t have that name then. I was drawn to it at first because it looked to me like a vine, and it reminded me that even though they were far away, the stars were alive. They weren’t these cold, distant things anymore. Suddenly, when I looked at them I saw the way they burned, with such ferocity and power, just so I could glimpse their light from so far away. To me, that fire was soul.” The angel felt Crowley’s breathing stutter against his shoulder and paused, but once again the demon failed to tell him to stop. 

“And then I noticed the way the stars moved across the sky. They moved just like any other living being, and at first I was saddened because it meant my favorite constellation would not be in my sight forever. Then the most amazing thing happened, Crowley. As one set of stars left, millions more took their place. My constellation might not stay stagnant in the sky, but I knew from that moment on, no matter where I was, I would never be alone. I would always have a bright sky, full of life, above me. And then my constellation  _ returned _ . Oh, Crowley, I thought I knew what love was until that moment. Knowing something is out there, alive but just out of sight, and waiting for it to come back to you is the most bittersweet feeling, but when it does return, seeing it come home, it makes you feel like your burning just as bright as any star.” Crowley’s arms, which had previously been limp at his sides, slowly wound their way around Aziraphale’s waist, clinging tight as the angel continued.

“So I watched the sky, tracked other constellations, and waited for mine to return to me. And I was happy. Then there was the bit with an apple and a silly serpent, and we all had to leave the garden. After that, the constellation looked a bit less like a vine, and a tad more like a snake.” Aziraphale chuckled softly at the memory as Crowley hesitantly smiled into his shoulder. Slowly, Aziraphale relaxed his wings around the demon, keeping them wrapped around him, just slightly lower. The breeze ruffled their hair once it was granted access to them again, and the angel couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the cool night air on his face and the heat of Crowley’s breath on his neck. 

“I suppose it was because I felt like you took the garden from me - not that it was your fault, just that you played a part in it; it was your job and all. And so I felt like you should replace the garden’s symbol in the sky - I switched the vine with a snake. But that was just at the start, because then I started running into you over time. Soon enough I realized that I put you in my constellation, not because of the garden, but because you reminded me of a star. You’d appear for a time, weasel your way into my good graces, and then disappear again for a while. But I always knew you were out there, and that sooner or later you would return. Maybe that’s why I have such a soft spot for you: you made me feel like I wasn’t alone on Earth, you were a living embodiment of the stars.” Crowley couldn’t stop the tears from falling then, and he clung to Aziraphale as he sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Oh, heavens, I’ve certainly done it now. I’m sorry, Crowley, should I stop? I’m just making it worse aren’t I? I’m sorry I’m not any good at this.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley closer, sending more calming warmth into him as he felt the demon shake his head between full body sobs. They sat there in silence until Crowley’s tears began to slow and his breathing evened out. It was a few more minutes after that before Crowley spoke.

“I’m sorry, Angel.” It was barely a whisper, but Aziraphale heard him and hesitated only a moment before speaking. 

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, Crowley. Why on Earth would you say something like that?”

“Be-because…” Crowley pulled in a few deep breaths before letting all of his words rush out of him on one exhale. “Because I’m a  _ demon _ . I’m inherently  _ evil _ , Aziraphale. And, and, and you fell in love with something  _ I _ created. And that means you love something  _ evil _ . But you’re so  _ good _ . And I don’t want you to love anything I touched, because then you’re loving something  _ bad _ , and that means you could  _ fall _ , and I don’t want you to- you can’t- Angel you’re too good.  _ Please _ , I can’t let you fall.  _ I will not be what causes you to fall _ .” 

Aziraphale gently sat Crowley up until he was looking at his face, but let his wings stay wrapped around them. Crowley kept his eyes pointedly fixed on the angel’s chest, not trusting himself to face whatever was in Aziraphale’s eyes. 

“Crowley, what are you talking about? Why do you think you would be the cause of my fall?” Aziraphale’s eyes roamed every visible inch of Crowley’s face as he waited for a reply, searching for any answers.

“Because you fell in love with the very stars I created…” The moment the words left his mouth, Crowley swore the whole world went quiet; nothing dared to breathe as an eternity passed before Aziraphale spoke again.

“It was you…? You created the cosmos? Oh, Crowley.”

“Raphael. Technically.”

“ _ You’re _ the Archangel Raphael?”

“You’re allowed to be mad, Aziraphale.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I tricked you into loving something evil…” Once again a hush fell over the world, but when Crowley found the courage to meet the angel’s eyes, he saw only understanding and sadness reflected back at him. Not the anger he was expecting. 

“I never got to finish telling you why Eridanus is my favorite work of yours. Will you let me finish?” Crowley nodded hesitantly, unsure where this was going as it wasn’t the reaction he expected from the angel.  _ Why isn’t he angry? Or worried? He should be worried about falling, why isn’t he worried? _ Crowley thought as Aziraphale picked up his story from where he left off.

“Well, time went on, and I found myself looking forward to the return of two things now: you and my constellation. It was nice, and I was happy. And then I found myself in Rome, rather recently in fact, where I chanced upon the Greek poet Aratus, who was visiting the city. Well you know how I love poetry and I was quite excited to talk with this man about his work. It was during this conversation that I told him of my love for this particular constellation, and he immediately knew of which I spoke and called it Eridanus.” Crowley watched, amazed, as a serious intensity took over Aziraphale’s features despite his eyes still holding a sad, sheepish glint. 

“I asked him why he called it by such a name, and he told me the story of a young boy, Phaëton, who was the son of the Sun god Helios and the Oceanid Clymene. Apparently, he was very eager to drive his father’s chariot across the sky, and begged almost daily for a chance. One day, Helios agreed to let him drive, but told him to not stray from his normal path. Well, the poor lad, he was lighter than his father and when the horses took off they carried him off the path. He didn’t have enough experience to regain control and they tumbled to Earth, causing quite a bit of destruction. Zeus saw what was happening and stuck the boy with a lightning bolt in order to keep the Earth safe from further destruction. When Phaëton’s hair caught on fire, he leapt from the chariot and fell into the Eridanus; Helios grieved for days.”

“Why are you telling me this story, Aziraphale?”

“Because, my Dear. This story reminded me that some beings just make mistakes out of innocence and naivety, that unfortunately have major consequences. But that doesn’t mean that that individual is inherently  _ bad _ . Phaëton isn’t bad for wanting to drive his father’s chariot, and he’s certainly not evil simply because he had no experience with horses. Yes, he caused a bit of damage, but it is as much Helios’ fault as it is Phaëton’s, since his father never taught him how to control the horses, and let him drive the chariot in the first place. Do you agree?”

“Yes… but I fail to see how this has anything to do with me-”

“Because Phaëton is you, Crowley. Look at all the good you did in Heaven while you were there. You healed and helped so many angels. You literally  _ hung the stars _ . You created a living being to watch over the Earth and all of God’s creations that are on it. That’s amazing, and not in any way evil. And then you got curious, started asking a couple questions - like Phaëton with the horses, that wasn’t your fault. It’s not bad or evil to be curious. But like how Phaëton caused a bit of a mess, the questions you asked couldn’t be answered in Heaven, and I’m sure it started to upset the order of things. And so like Zeus with Phaëton, God had to stop you. Not in punishment, but to protect Heaven. She didn’t cast you out because you are evil, she did so because order had to be kept in Heaven. She didn’t send you to Hell to make you suffer. She sent you to Earth where your questions would find answers. Crowley, I’m telling you this story because it reminded me of you. Of how you taught me, over all these years, that not all fallen things are bad, or evil, and that even demons can have good inside them.”

“Angel, I’m not  _ nice _ . I don’t have any good in me.”

“If that were true, Crowely, you wouldn’t have told me about who you used to be.”

“Aziraphale-”

“Hush, now. I understand. You can’t admit it out loud, and that’s okay. Maybe one day you’ll be able to, but for right now just let it be. You won’t change my mind, and I won’t ask you to do something you aren’t capable of doing yet. So please, Dear. Can we just stay here and watch the stars? We only have an hour until sunrise.”

“We could, um, always come back tomorrow night. If you want.”

“I would like that very much, thank you.” And with that they fell back into a comfortable silence, watching the stars crawl across the sky; an eternal reminder that neither one had ever been, or would ever be truly alone.

__________

The next night Aziraphale met Crowley back in the same spot. He was a tad late, and arrived to find a very distraught demon pacing back and forth while incoherently mumbling under his breath. Crowley stopped and looked up when Aziraphale stepped closer, giving the angel an absolutely astonished look. 

“I thought you weren’t coming…”

“Now that is utter nonsense. Surely, you know better than that, my Dear. I am simply a few moments late - apologies for that by the way - because I slightly lost track of time working on your gift.”

“My gift?”

“Yes, your gift. Do keep up,” Aziraphale gently teased. “Would you like it now, or at the end of the night?” 

“W-um-uh-well-er…” Crowley’s mouth opened and closed a few times, nonsensical noises occasionally coming out, before he finally managed a sentence. “You see, Angel, I got you a gift too. Well, er, made you a gift.”

“Really? How wonderful! I suppose we should exchange our gifts now then. Why waste time, hmm? Would you like to go first?”

“Ohhh, I don’t know about that.”

“Very well, I shall start.” Aziraphale moved to stand next to Crowley instead of in front of him. “Right, so I didn’t have any time to test this out before I got here, so please have some patience.” The angel raised his hand, snapped, and suddenly there was a row of six urns that had strings sticking out of whatever they were filled with. 

“So they require a bit of an explanation.” Aziraphale looked down at his clasped hands for a minute before meeting Crowley’s eyes and explaining in a rush. “Last night, when you told me about your past, it seemed to me like you missed being able to visit the stars. And I know you could travel to see them now, but I mean, it seemed like you missed the view from Heaven. And well, since you can’t exactly return, I - well I tried my best to bring a bit of Heaven to you.” As soon as he was done, Aziraphale turned back to the urns, and snapped again. 

Crowley watched as one by one the six strings caught fire and slowly burned toward the substance in the urns. The one on the far left went off first. With a sudden bang that made both Crowley and Aziraphale jump, the urn caught fire and sent up a pillar of colorful sparks. The other urns followed with five more loud bangs, and suddenly Crowley and Aziraphale were standing before a wall of multi colored sparks, showering down.

“Aziraphale…” Crowley watched the display in captivated awe. He knew that even without the angel’s explanation, he would have seen exactly what he had been trying to do. The continuous shower of sparks resembled stars: from galaxies and planets spinning around each other, to shooting stars and comets falling to Earth. The display before him almost resembled the view of the cosmos from Heaven perfectly. Something warm spread throughout Crowley’s chest as he searched his mind for a proper way to thank Aziraphale, before remembering he still had his gift to give. But when he turned to face the angel, his breath caught in his throat and the words died on his tongue. 

Aziraphale was still watching the display before him, and Crowley could see the reflection of each, individual spark in the angel’s eyes. He could see the Heavens in his angel’s eyes. The warmth in his chest began to burn brighter and it reminded him of Aziraphale’s description of love: how it makes you feel like you’re burning as bright as a star. The realization clicked instantly, but it was his calm acceptance of the fact that surprised Crowley.  _ I’m in love with Aziraphale _ , he admitted to himself. Crowley continued to stare at his Angel until the last of the sparks burned itself out, and Aziraphale turned to meet his gaze; both of them grinning.

“Should I say Thank You?” Crowley raised an eyebrow in question.

“Best not,” Aziraphale teased. “Just make it up to me by giving me my gift now.”

“Oh, you’re going to love this, Angel.” Crowley placed his hand on Aziraphale’s arm and turned him until they had their backs to the scorched urns. It was Crowley’s turn to snap (he used his free hand, the one  _ not _ still resting on his Angel’s arm), and a dozen or so boxes appeared filled with small bottles. Crowley looked at Aziraphale again, gesturing to the sky to get him to look up. “Watch the sky, Angel, and don’t look away,” he said, eyes still fixed on Aziraphale as he snapped his fingers again. 

Right as Aziraphale opened his mouth to ask why, one of the bottles shot up into the air and exploded, lighting up the sky with a circle of white sparks. It was followed by a boom that both angel and demon felt echo in their souls. That bottle was followed by another, and another, and another. Flash,  _ boom _ . Flash,  _ boom _ . Flash,  _ boom _ . 

Aziraphale was enraptured, and once again Crowley couldn’t tear his eyes away from his Angel. He saw each burst of color light up the angel’s eyes, each flash of sparks shine almost as bright Aziraphale’s true form, and felt his love for the angel burn just a little bit brighter with every boom that shook his soul.  _ I can’t lose him _ . The thought floated through his mind before Crowley could stop it, and it left a cold emptiness in place of the fire that burned through him a moment before. Shock and dread. 

Love he could deal with. He’d loved and lost before, with his fall. But a dependency? A love so strong he  _ needed _ Aziraphale? No, he didn’t know how to handle this, but he did know one thing.  _ I will never stop loving him _ . It scared him. Terrified him. Up until now, Crowley had always assumed demons were incapable of love. Angels were the living embodiment of love, of course they could. But a demon?  _ Never _ . This time Crowley was too lost in his own thoughts to notice when the last of the bottles exploded, and the world was enveloped in night once again. 

“You did it, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s words shook him back into the present.

“Did what, Angel?”

“You put your mark on Heaven. Temporarily, but it counts all the same. You found a way to add more stars to the sky.” And suddenly tears were falling down Aziraphale’s cheeks. 

“Why are you crying, Aziraphale?” Crowley quickly stepped in front of the angel, bringing his hands up to wipe the tears from his face. 

“Because of you,” he said, smiling up at Crowley. “Because it was beautiful. Because you’re so you, and you are so  _ good _ . Nothing evil could have ever made something so beautiful or perfect, Crowley, let alone both. Oh,  _ Crowley _ .” And there it was. His name, on his Angel’s lips, spoken as if all of the love, understanding, and wistfulness of the universe had been poured into a single word. Could a demon truly love? Crowley didn’t know, but here he was, in love with an angel. He made himself a promise, right then. _ I am never going to let anything harm my Angel, and I will do whatever it takes to keep Aziraphale by my side.  _

Crowley didn’t know how to respond to Aziraphale, but he could see in the angel’s eyes that he didn’t have to. He understood Crowley like no one else ever had, and Crowley thanked God for the first time since his fall, for letting the angel into his life. 

“What will you call them?” 

“You should name them, Angel.”

“But they are your works of art, my Dear.” Crowley thought about Aziraphale’s words.  _ Works of art _ , he hummed.  _ Works. Of. Art. Artworks? No.  _ He knew he didn’t want them to be named after anything directly related to Heaven or Hell, but aside from that he had no idea.

“I don’t know, Aziraphale.”

“They burn so bright. It should be something related to the stars, or love.” 

“ _ Fireworks _ .” It came to him the instant his Angel had said burn, and it was perfect. Aziraphale was right, they are works of art, and they also burn as bright as a star and as strong as love. And if it, oh I don’t know, happened to also hint at say  _ hellfire _ , then that was perfectly alright by Crowley. It was fitting in his eyes to have a little piece of Hell up in Heaven, even if it was temporary. It mirrored the little piece of Heaven his Angel saw in him. 

They stayed there, again, watching the stars until the sun rose, it’s light chasing the stars away. It was on their walk back towards the closest town that Aziraphale asked Crowley how they were going to explain all of the loud noises their gifts made to the humans. Crowley just shrugged and said they would make do. When they got to the town they decided to stop for lunch at the only open establishment the town had, and much to Aziraphale’s dismay - and Crowley’s delight - the cook was terrible. One demonic idea later, they were standing in the poor man’s kitchen watching him mix a few, too specific, ingredients together (which may or may not be due to a certain demon’s temptation) which resulted in his  _ concoction _ exploding in his face (this was definitely due to a certain angel’s miraculous revenge for the quality of his food). 

Centuries later, this moment would go down as a Chinese folktale, detailing how one man stumbled across the formula for fireworks by having his recipe explode in his face while trying to cook in his kitchen. 

Aziraphale believes the chef had no direct affect on the invention of fireworks. Crowley knows better. 

* * *


End file.
